


Stanxfemreader New Year's Fic

by loopy_lupita23



Series: Stanxfemreader series [2]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-17 02:47:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4649307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loopy_lupita23/pseuds/loopy_lupita23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Well, after a Thanksgiving like that your relationship with Stan Pines is thrown for a loop. It's often said that work place romances never work out but what do they know? *This is a sequal to 'Stanxfemreader Thanksgiving Fic', please read that one first or this one will not make as much sense!*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stanxfemreader New Year's Fic

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, still moving some fics over. I didn't realize how much I'd written until I started moving them all. This was the second part to my first one so it's relatively old-ish too. Hope all you Grunkle-lovers enjoy this! :D

Stan-x-femreader New Year’s Fic

A/N: Ok the title sucks, so sorry for that but truly, I am blown away by how many people requested this because of the first one. Really! I mean, wow, I got over ten new watchers from it! I do apologize for how long it took to get this out but in truth, I just finished my school finals so I haven’t had much spare time. With this winter break, I figured I could give this more attention so to all who enjoyed the first, thank you, it really made my day every time I saw a new like or reblog. Thank you all and I hope this doesn’t fail to meet your expectations. :)

 

When you wake you don’t open your eyes right away, half hoping you’ll fall back to sleep if you lay still enough. But the roar of the wind slamming against the door outside is too loud to even begin to ignore.

You grumble to yourself tiredly and make to turn and stretch but stop when you realize the blanket feels oddly heavy. You force your eyes to open and jump slightly (which you almost immediately regret as your body is still half asleep and your muscles didn’t appreciate the jolt) at the sight of a hairy, masculine arm draped over you.

You blink, attempting to kick start your sleepy brain into remember where the hell you are because this is clearly not your room. Blinking seems to work, the memory of last night floods back to you.

Last night was Thanksgiving Day. You had come to drop food off for Stan. You ate, drank and watched ‘The Duchess’ movie series. You were a little tipsy, you laid out on the air mattress Stan had offered. He started cleaning up, fell next you, you talked, felt stupid then relieved and then…

You stare at the fuzzy arm, then slowly your eyes travel back to the body it is attached to.

Stan is still asleep, his nose whistling with every breath he breaths. His brow is soft in his relaxed state, the lines of his face seem almost smooth.

Looking at him now makes your heart flutter; gently you reach out and graze his scratchy cheek. His eyebrows twitch a little as a small smile comes to his resting face, you have to suppress a laugh.

As you observe him a lot of thoughts go through your mind. _Last night was amazing. So unexpected. Incredible. Really surprising. Fantastic. Kind of tipsy, not like a black-out one nighter._

The last thought wipes the smile clean off your face. You did have a few sure but…well, that’s not important right? Sort of…it really more depends on if last night meant anything and if it did, what did it mean?

Your heart is starting to feel tied up in your throat and you feel the need to get up and move around.

Gradually, you lift his arm off of you and wiggle out of his grasp before slowly lowering it back down. A little alone time feels very needed at the moment, so the longer he sleeps the better.

As you stand up you bite back a groan. _Ah. It’s been ages since these muscles were sore._ You think, rubbing your stomach and low back.

People never seem to think about all the muscles involved to have great sex. Ignoring the throbbing of your extremities you sneak around, grabbing your shirt from across the room and then your pants from the end of the air mattress.

Despite the wood floors, it’s not very creaky and the warmth of the house is just as surprising as it was yesterday when you tip-toe to the kitchen with your clothes in hand.

You put on your clothes at a leisurely pace, debating on turning on a light or just opening the blinds from the kitchen window.

Winter is weird.

Sometimes, no matter how terrible the weather is, however many clouds are covering up the sky, there’s still light. Not direct sunlight but light that somehow makes everything look gray. You can definitely tell its mid-morning, maybe early afternoon.

Dressed, you decide to just open the blinds, though the outside looks more like a white-out with snow falling and blowing about so harshly.

_Looks like I’m staying another night. Or at the very least the day._ You think as you turn on the coffee maker.

While getting out the coffee filters you’re not sure how you feel. On the one hand, very happy and pleasantly satisfied and on the other, extremely anxious and unsure.

When Stan wakes will he want you to stay or leave? Will he want to pretend last night never happened? Will he disregard it entirely or will he expect a committed relationship? What would that entail? Do you even _want_ a committed relationship with him?

_No! Of course not! Not really anyways…well…maybe…wait, no. No!…ish._

You groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. You don’t know what you want. Really, all you can say for sure is you don’t want him to cut ties completely after something like this.

It really has been a long time since you’ve connected with someone, physically or otherwise, and the thought of losing that…well, it makes your heart feel hollow.

You’re not sure how long you stand at the counter, watching the coffee dribble into the pot while actually being too caught up in your own head to really see it, before you hear his gravelly groan from the living room.

“Yeesh, it’s been decades since these muscles were sore…” you hear him mutter, accompanied by the sound of the air mattress losing its air.

You smile initially but panic sets in as you hear him making his way to the kitchen.

_Shit, shit, shit!_ You think, standing up straight and flattening your hair. _Ok, don’t be weird. Just act normal. Nonchalant. Cool._

After a night like that you know these next few moments are critical and will set up the tone for how the night in question will be handled. Too clingy in your salutation could set him off running, too jittery and then the whole conversation is. You need to do this just right. You need to say the right thing, maybe a joke or something clever and you need to not sound as scared as you feel. Focus.

Stan eventually lumbers into the kitchen, wearing his glasses and the same boxers and undershirt from last night, though he stops in the door frame when he makes eye contact with you.

The both of you stare each other down, is he holding his breath? You clench a fist on the counter. _Ok, he’s waiting for me to make the first move, gotta do this right._

You try your hardest to smile. “Good morning h-handsome.” You physically wince the moment the words are out there. Could your voice _get_ any more pathetic?

A wave of relief washes over you when he chuckles, a little breathier than usual. “If you say so.” He takes a seat at the table and you busy yourself with getting mugs for the nearly finished coffee.

He hums as he looks out the window. “Looks like the storm is still coursing.”

You nod while put the mugs onto the counter next to the pot. “Yeah, looks like I won’t be leaving at least for another hour.” You say casually.

“…Do you want to leave?” he asks softly.

Immediately you pick up on the slight downward dip in his tone and a spike of panic shoots through you as turn around so fast you nearly knock the mugs to the floor.

“No! No, no, no, no, no! That- that is _not_ what I was saying _at all_! Not even remotely! I was just commenting on the fact that the storm is so fierce at the very _least_ I’d be here for an hour, I intend to stay as long as you’ll have me! I mean, I’m not the sort to just pick up and leave and actually I was more scared you’d throw _me_ out because I’m a _terrible_ lover or-or because you think I’m just a kid or because you think I’m annoying and don’t want to put up with me! Which I don’t really think is fair because even though I have some bad traits I think my better one more or less make-up for it unless you think that I’m overbearing, which I have been told I am before but in my defense-” The words are spewing out of you at an alarming rate, the anxiety you’d been feeling all morning pouring out too quickly to contain.

_Good God make it stop! Why is my mouth still moving?! Shut up, shut up!_

“-and really who is he to tell me I have ‘neurotic tendencies’? Hell, who _isn’t_ neurotic these days with all the responsibilities and pressures of the modern world and all the shit we’re expected to just put up with and-”

“Hey-” You hear Stan say but you just can’t seem to stop.

“-after all I’m only human, I make mistakes! I can’t be completely in control of my life all the time, who is? I’ve never heard anyone say that they’re completely perfect in every way! Unless-”

“Hey, _hey_!”

Stan gets up and even though your mouth is still running a mile a minute with nonsensical dribble, he doesn’t seem upset. It’s not until he places both his hands on your shoulders that you’re able to control the word vomit.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry. I talk a lot when I get nervous and I was really thinking you were just going to throw me out-”

Stan puts a finger over your lip. “Sugar, I’m not kickin’ ya out. I just asked a question.”

You sigh, covering your face. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.”

He pats your arm, smiling. “S’ok.”

“You think I’m a freak now don’t you?” you mumble to your hands.

When you look up, he’s pouring the coffee into his usual mug. Meeting your partially covered eyes, he shrugs. “Eh. Not any more so than I did last night.”

The grin on his face, mixed with the nudge to your side is like a cooking strainer, slowly emptying all the anxiety and fear out of you.

What are you freaking out about? This is Stanford Pines you’re with. You know, _Stan._ The guy you’ve been cozying up with for nearly four months, not some guy you just meet at the park or at a social gathering.

You’re safe here.

It’s amazing how the small things can make such a big impact. With your smile renewed, you pour yourself some coffee as well.

“How do you manage to make everything I’m worried about seem so stupid?” You ask, recalling your similar outburst before the sex yesterday, as you walk to the table.

He’s leaning back on the back two legs of his chair, using the table as a small support while wearing that snarky grin you’ve become a bit fond of. “Because you worry too much. Ya need to relax and stop bein’ so afraid. You know, more like me.”

You scoff and give the table leg a kick as you sit down across from him. “Right, I’ll work on that.”

He wobbles slightly before resting the chair back on the ground. You smile and shake your head slightly before turning your face to your cup. The smell and taste of the freshly made coffee really helps with your calming nerves. It’s only slightly surprising when you and Stan sigh in unison after that first delicious sip.

When you place your mugs down you regard him warmly.

“Ok _cool guy_ , since you’ve got a handle on this, where do we go from here?” you ask teasingly.

He shocks you a bit when he sits up straighter in his chair and runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, what’s supposed to happen?”

You blink. “Well, I don’t know. You’re the one who said you know what’s what.”

He sighs heavily. “Look sweetheart, it’s been a _long_ time since I’ve been in a situation even remotely close to this so, I dunno.”

You frown a little and look decisively at your hands. “I’m not exactly an expert in these sorts of things either…”

A weighted silence follows your words. You can’t really bring yourself to look at him, nervous of what expression he has. When it stretch it out, you huff. Well if he’s not going to say anything you just need to take the plunge.

“Ok. So neither of us know what we’re doing. That’s ok, we’ll just…logic our way through this.” You look up quickly. “I like you. Do you like me?”

Stan hesitates, though you can see he’s been tapping the table top. “Uh, sure.”

You nod curtly. “Alright. Ok, so you like me, I like you, do you want to keep having sex?”

He raises a brow. “Is that a trick question?”

Again you nod. “Right. So, with that concluded, we’ll just keep doing what we’re doing and we’ll be…uh…good. Right?”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, looking more into his coffee now than at you. You swallow nervously.

“I didn’t study for this quiz, you can’t ask me if the answer is right or not.” He says with a shrug.

You snicker and give him a light kick under the table. “Ok, so we’re fine.”

He smiles at your laugh. “Glad we got it figured out then.”

When he places a hand over yours on the table that flutter of your heart from earlier returns. It’s such a gentle gesture that, all joking aside, feels heartfelt. You smile back at him, a real smile and wish the table were a bit smaller, it’d make it a lot easier to lean in and give that genuine face a kiss.

Before you can so much as get up from your seat however, you hear the familiar sound of a skype account ringing. Your first instinct is to check your phone but it’s not in your pocket. Meanwhile, Stan has jumped to his feet.

“Ah damn it.” He murmurs, quick-walking back to the kitchen counter.

It shouldn’t surprise you but you still laugh when he digs a tablet out of one of the kitchen drawers. “You have a tablet and you keep it in the kitchen drawer?” you ask.

He returns to the table with a scowl. “Kids made me get it before they left, said it’d help us stay in touch more. And where else am I supposed to put the damn thing?”

You put your hands up defensively as you get up from the table, though you’re still giggling. “Ok, ok. Well I’m going to make some breakfast so you can chat in peace.”

He doesn’t even look up at you, harshly pushing the screen of the device. “Sure, whatever you like. Why the hell isn’t this thing _working_?! I can _never_ get it to answer!”

You reach across the table. He stops trying to crack the screen when you do and watches, amazed, as you slide your finger on the green ‘answer’ button. “You slide it, not press it.” You whisper before continuing back to the counter.

“Oh my gosh; _Dipper! He actually answered it this time!_ ” the most adorable voice you think you’ve ever heard exclaims as you walk away.

“Wait, really?” You chuckle a little at the second voice. That kid is definitely going through puberty.

“Uh, hey kids, happy-late Thanksgiving.” Stan says behind you.

The twins excitedly return the greeting and express their amazement that he finally answered one of their calls. As the family catches up, you start getting the things you need to make breakfast as quietly as you can.

_He has to own more than just two pans._ You think as your bend down and rummage through the cabinets.

“-so mom says by state law we’ll have to leave Waddles with you when come back next summer, but I’m glad I got to keep him for this year at least. My little Waddles, getting too big for some of his sweaters even. You’ll be able to hold on to him for me though, right Grunkle Stan?”

You reach a little lower, nearly on your hands and knees. Is that a pan handle or a pot handle?

“Hello~o? Grunkle Stan?”

“What? Oh yeah, yeah, course I’ll hold on to Wabbles for you sweetie.”

“It’s Waddles. Thanks Grunkle Stan! Once I’m old enough I’ll petition for pig-rights here. We’ve gotta fight the power!”

“So how are you? Anything strange going on since we left?”

You look back over your shoulder when Stan doesn’t answer for the second time. Apparently he’s too occupied eyeing you up, very blatantly. You clear your throat as you stand up straight. When he meets your eyes you gesture the tablet.

“Oh, uh sorry kid I zoned out. Whacha say?” he asks, hurriedly looking back to the screen.

“I said, any more strange things happening since we left?”

Stan glances back at you though you pretend you don’t see as you get milk and eggs from the fridge. “…You could say so, yeah.”

“Are you ok Grunkle Stan? You seem kind of unfocused.”

His laugh sounds strained when he answers. “Yeah, just something on TV. Uh, why don’t you kids give me a call back in a few hours, sound good?”

“Well now that we know you’ll answer sure!” Mable pipes in happily.

They say their goodbyes and almost as soon as the call is ended you hear the drag of a chair across the wood floor. Moments after two impressive arms wrap around you, pulling you close to him. The scratchy kisses to your neck are followed by a husky whisper. “Can you stop doing that?”

Your legs shake a little, excited by the sudden attention. “Making breakfast?”

“Lookin’ so damn gorgeous doin’ everything.” He corrects, giving you a small squeeze to emphasize his point. “It’s distracting.”

You smile, humming contentedly as he continues to kiss your neck while his naughty hands start to wander. You turn into his embrace, surprising him with a kiss on the lips as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Getting your second wind?” you tease when you end the kiss.

He smiles, though it seems a bit tremulous and his eyes are a little wide too, did you really catch him that off guard?

“Maybe, you interested?” he asks.

You place your head on his chest, tangling your fingers in hairs on the back of his head. “Oh, I don’t know. Sort of have the breakfast stuff out. Don’t know if I can on an empty stomach, what do you think?”

The sound of his small laugh echoes a little with your ear to his chest. You feel a little kiss to your forehead. “You cook then, I could use a shower anyways. It’s not very romantic to be unkempt.”

You look up, intending to return the kiss but he’s already removing himself from your grasp.

He smiles. “Be back soon.”

You nod, grinning a bit as you turn back to the stove. “I’ll be waiting.” Even once he’s gone you can’t stop smiling. It’s been a while since you’ve felt this giddy.

_I can’t believe this is real._

-

“For real? You really went all the way with the silverfox on Thanksgiving?”

You laugh a little, resting your phone next to your ear as you stretch out on your bed. “And the day after that and the day after that. Eventually I had to come back to the folk’s place though, my mom really wanted to force ‘uncomfortable relative’ time this year. But at least they’re not coming for Christmas.”

You hear slow clapping on the other end of the phone. “Wow, kudos to you. And here I thought this would be another story about you pinning away and never having the guts to do anything about it.”

“Yep, I flipped the script on ya!” you say as you turn onto your stomach.

“Sure did. So how’d it go? Did he need a little blue pill assistance to get things started?” she teases.

You stick out your tongue, though you know she can’t see it. “For your information, lady, erectile dysfunction is _not_ the norm with all elders. It only effects a percentage of men. That is a harmful stereotype, you ageist.”

She chuckles. “Noted. I apologize.”

“Accepted. Granted it does take him a little longer to get his second wind after but that aside, it was pretty amazing. I got the feeling I wasn’t he first for sure. I mean, it’s only been a few weeks but everything about this is just…amazing! We talk just like we used to and there’s no real tension anymore.” You sigh and hug a pillow tightly.

“I’m glad you’re happy, so it’s not weird at work then?”

You grin. “Not really, but there’s hasn’t been much time for it to _be_ awkward. We only just opened up again when the weather started clearing, turns out people will buy Christmas gifts anywhere they think will be open. But even without work, I actually came up with this little game of seducing Stan by doing mundane tasks. Evidently he thinks I look sexy doing anything, so I like to tease him. You know, bending at the waist to pick stuff up, stretching a little during the day. Fun stuff. Since we started working again though, sometimes if I get him riled up enough we’ll slip away and let Soos, that’s my co-worker, take care of the store to…alleviate the tension.”

“Does the guy know what’s up?”

You sit up at that. “Well, no. He might have his suspicions but…I don’t know exactly what to call what Stan and I are, but whatever it is, we’re keeping it to ourselves. That’s not weird is it?”

“Hell no. It’s no one’s business but your own who you’re fucking.”

You smile. “Thanks, I needed to hear that. Really, the only weird thing is when we kiss. Not so much when its body parts we’re kissing but whenever we mouth-kiss, I dunno, he gets really nervous-like or sort of distances himself, is that weird?”

“Kinda. Maybe he’s just shy.”

You shrug. “I dunno, with the things he can do in the bedroom you’d think he’d be ok with a little kiss.” You shake your head. “Ah, maybe I’m just over thinking things. That aside, it’s been great for me. How’s getting back into school?”

She groans. “You know, it’s stupid to give us a week to relax just to call us back for less than four weeks for finals then letting us go again. Why not skip the Thanksgiving break all together and let us get everything done in one sweep then get a whole month off?”

“Cuz then your brains would loss all the precious information they’re trying to cram into them.”

“They don’t seem to mind giving little school kids _two_ months off.”

“All the more proving we’ve got a flawed system.” You smirk.

She sighs highly. “Right, right. So, did you get all your Christmas shopping done?”

You lay back down on your bed and rest your hands behind your head. “Oh yeah, I sent your gift to your mom’s since you’ll be there in a week or so anyways. Got you a two hundred dollar snow globe from the shop on an employee discount!”

She scoffs in your ear. “Figures, you always blow all your money on a big, expensive gift for the person you feel is most important then everyone else gets the scraps. Seems I’ve been replaced this year.”

“Oh shut up, you know I was just kidding.” You laugh.

“But it’s true to some degree isn’t it? Be honest, how much did you spend on him?”

You scratch the back of your head, looking away from the phone. “Well…he really likes fancy watches, says he even lost his hands for a day for stealing one from a witch-”

“I call bullshit! Seriously, you can’t expect me to buy every ‘paranormal’ story you try to sell.” She interrupts.

You roll your eyes. “Fine. Believe what you want, oh ye of little faith. Anyways, I figure if he likes watches that much it’d be nice to get him a really snazzy one. So I did.”

“The cost, young lady?” She teases.

You bite your lip. “Um…well, you know price doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things-”

“Dude, how much?” her tone switches to curious.

You sigh, pushing phone away from your ear. “…$295.”

“ _Holy fuck! Are you serious?!_ ” her scream was expected. “You don’t make enough dough working at that rinky-dink store to pay your bills, rent and buy gifts _that_ expensive. How’d you get that?”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “It’s no big deal I just…dipped into my saving funds a little. Might not get my own place as soon but you know.”

“Real talk: you need to stop trying to buy people’s love.”

You frown. “I do not ‘buy people’s love’! I just want the most important people to _know_ just how much I love them and money talks so connect the dots. More money spent on you, the more I love you, easy. And just for your rude remark I’m gonna call your mom and tell her to burn the real gift I gave you and give you a snow globe for real.”

“Oh no, I’m losing the position of love in your heart!” she mocks.

You huff and sit yourself upright. “Oh shut up. Anyways I have to go, just wanted to give you an update before work. Sorry I haven’t done so sooner, just been caught up in everything.”

“Hey don’t sweat it, if I was getting laid I’d probably be too caught up in it to update you too.” She says lightly, you can practically see her teasing smile.

“You’re just jealous.” You insist as you pull on your socks, the last of your clothing needed.

She scoffs. “No way, my social exploits are _much_ more exciting, what with school consuming my life and all.”

“You are _so~o_ jelly.” You say in an overly drawn out fashion.

“Oh no, don’t start that again. You know I hate that.”

You twirl your finger in your hair. “Oh my _gawd_ , gurl, you are like _so~o_ jelly right now. Wishin’ you had my mad skillixs with the guys and/or ladies, whatever you’re into today.”

“That it, I’m out, later.”

“Like, I love you _gurl_!” You laugh as she hangs up on you.

As you pocket your phone you get the feeling today is going to be a good day. You grab the neatly wrapped gift from your dresser and head downstairs, still laughing a little as you go.

Your mom pokes her head out of the kitchen nook while you get your winter coat and boats on. “Oh sweetie, did you want breakfast-”

“No time, gotta go to work, bye!” You say quickly before she can guilt you into staying.

The sun is bright, the wind chill is low, the thermometer on the wall says it’s nearly thirty five degrees and some of the snow is melting into slush, oh yeah.

Today is definitely going to be a good day.

-

When you park in your usual spot you gently pocket the gift. You know it’s too early in the month to be giving the presents out but damn it all, you’re too excited to wait any longer. This watch is really gorgeous and thinking about his face when he sees it, of how happy it’ll make him, it’s got you so giddy you practically skip to the door.

You enter through the kitchen. Stan is at the counter, dressed in his usual black suit (oh, you have so much love for that suit) and wearing his fez, pouring out the coffee. He looks up when you come in with a smile. “Morning hot stuff.”

Instead of sitting at the table and waiting for him to bring the mugs over like you usually do, you continue towards him with a bounce in your step.

You surprise him with a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Good morning.” You practically purr as you grab your mug from the counter before continuing to your chair.

Stan stays at the counter a moment, looking a little dumbfounded at the break in routine. “What’s got you in such a good mood today?” he asks as he joins you at the table.

“Well the sun is shining, it’s a little above freezing outside, I talked with my best friend this morning haven’t gotten to do that in a while and I get to spend my mornings with you before work. Take your pick.” You say casually as you sip your coffee.

He hums as he unfolds his paper. “I’ll go with the weather, seeing as you bitch about it nearly every morning.”

You shrug. “Winter is terrible. I hate that people associate it with joy and wonderment, especially in this time of year. Plenty of places have no snow for Christmas yet the movies and crap act like it’s the end of the world or less meaningful if it isn’t piling up everywhere on the 25th of December. What I wouldn’t give to live somewhere south of the equator some days.”

“Try Columbia, the sun is boiling there. At least in the prison yards.” Stan says nonchalantly as he looks over the paper before taking a drink from his mug.

You chuckle. “Still not gonna tell me what landed you there?”

He glances up from the page with a smirk. “What and ruin the guessing game?”

You roll your eyes. “I’ve been guessing for ages. Come on, in the spirit of the holidays won’t you share?”

“Nice try sugar, but no dice.” He says easily, giving the paper a little snap as he holds it back to his attention.

“Damn. Well anything going on?” you ask gesturing the paper.

His eyes scan the text. “Not much. Bud Gleeful’s doing another Christmas car show, asking for public opinion on where it should be held. Think I’ll write in, tell him the bottomless pit’s always open.”

“Or you can tell him on the lake, I’m sure all the car exhaust and weight won’t melt the ice or anything.” You say coolly.

The both of you share a laugh at the thought. When his laughter subsides Stan smiles lightly and places his free hand over yours on the table.

Your heart races, should you spring the gift out on him now? The mood is set and maybe after he sees it you could sneak upstairs before the shop opens so he could show his appreciation for such a thoughtful gift.

Abruptly the backdoor to the kitchen opens. Stan practically jumps out of his chair to put some distance between you the moment it does and you have to fight back a groan.

“Morning dudes! Did you still want me to chip off the icicles from the roof Mr. Pines?” Soos asks, blissfully cheerful in spite of the moment he just ruined.

“Uh yeah, got a step ladder in the closet for ya.” Stan says gruffly, shuffling out of the room with his head down.

Soos watches him leave then looks back to you with that same perplexed expression he’s been sporting the past few weeks. You look pointedly out the window and sip your coffee through clenched teeth.

_Don’t be mad. It’s not his fault. He doesn’t know anything was going on._ You mental chant as you squeeze your mug with both hands.

Stan returns with the ladder and walks with Soos outside to show him exactly what areas are looking the most hazardous. When he comes back in you’ve already finished your cup and cast him a mildly irritated look.

“Sorry, forgot I asked him to come in a little early today.” He apologizes.

You shrug. “S’ok. Although, we could just come out with it so we don’t have to be so jumpy whenever he’s here.”

He walks behind you and gives your shoulders a little rub. “Nah, ya don’t wanna do that. People will give ya a lot of guff for it. Besides, it ain’t anyone’s business anyways.”

You nod a little. “True, but…”

A small smile makes its way to your face when he gives the top of your head a kiss. “Come on, let’s go get the shop ready.”

As he walks away, you pat the pocket of your coat. _Well, I guess I can give it to him later._ You think as you get up from the seat and take the mugs to the sink. You stay a moment longer to make some toast for yourself before joining Stan in the store.

Ever since the storm passed, the real target of the Mystery Shack hasn’t been the tours or crazy attractions. Given the time of year, it all came down to the merchandise. It is more locals than out-of-towners coming in now, so a lot of the work day is focused on stocking the shelves, making sales and keeping the place looking nice enough that people want to enter it and buy things.

Without tours to give Stan has been in the shop more often than not these days, making the sales with his charm, though sometimes the task to get those suckers to spend fell to you and Soos.

Today doesn’t seem to be one of those days, thankfully, as Soos stays outside making the walkway safe while you man the register.

Despite the great morning you had, as the day slips into the afternoon you haven’t had an opportunity to get Stan alone to give him the watch.

In the morning you attempted to get his attention with your little seduction game but so far it wasn’t yielding much result.

_Stupid customers, taking up his attention._ You think.

With lunch around the corner you decide to bring your A-game, yawning a little and stretching your arms behind your back and over your head while complaining lightly about your back hurting.

But it quickly becomes apparent that your A-game is dangerous as a leaving customer spills his soda when he walks into the wall next to the door, apparently too distracted to watch where he was going.

Groaning, you go to the back and grab the mop and bucket to clean it up. Stan should invest in one of those janitor carts that has a yellow mop bucket that wrings the water from the mop with a lever so you didn’t have to wring it yourself.

You shake the water from your hand before continuing to mop up the drink. When you’ve got it cleaned up you bend the pick up the bucket and take it back to the back room.

However, once you stand up straight two hands land on your shoulders and you know it’s Stan even before he speaks. “Hey. Heard your back is sore.”

You smile. _Hook, line and sinker._

“A little.” You sigh, rolling your head from side to side as if relieving your imaginary pains.

“It’s almost lunch. Wanna go upstairs, I can give you a good rub down.” He growls lowly in your ear.

You beam, recognizing that tone. You switch the mop to your other hand before turning to face him while placing the dampen hand on your chest in a mock-innocent way. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to take up your time.”

The water soaks into your shirt, effectively keeping his gaze locked on your breasts.

“Definitely.” He breathes.

You grin and walk out of his reach. “See you upstairs.” You say softly.

As you put the mop and bucket behind the register you’re certain to grab your coat. Behind you Stan has rushed outside and is yelling for Soos to come in and watch the store.

You chuckle a little to yourself as you head upstairs.

_Success!_ You think when you open the door to his room upstairs. You stand in the middle of his bedroom, not sure how you want to be when he enters. Should you get naked, lean against something, how do you want the set up to be?

Before you can put anything into action you hear the sound of someone rushing up the stairs. Quickly you kick off your shoes and toss your coat by the bedside so you can get to gift more easily afterwards.

Stan bursts into the room shortly after, his suit already halfway unbuttoned, his tie and collar loosened and as soon as he enters he throws his fez on the counter but he leaves his glasses on.

You smile sweetly before turning away from him and taking off your shirt. “Be sure to work my shoulders, they’ve been holding a lot of tension.”

It’s all part of the game, dressing down to your panties without facing him and laying on his bed face down. You close your eyes, content listening to the sound of him quickly discarding his own cloths before he bears down on you.

“Oh don’t worry, I’ll work you over real good.” He says huskily, pressing his bare torso against your back. His chest and stomach hair tickles a little.

You breathe deeply and again make the mental note to ask him what aftershave he uses because it is delicious. You keep saying you’ll ask but you always forget to. Probably because the thought gets pushed far from your mind, as it is now, with him rubbing your back so firmly.

A hum draws from your closed lips as he actually give you a little back rub before jumping to nasty.

You begin to wonder if it’s sick to love someone’s hands so much as his firm fingers work little balls of tension out of your muscles. His hands may be dry and a little calloused but the warmth they exuded as well as their size and strength completely make up for it.

His hands trail down your back, gripping the bottom of your ribcage a little before continuing down to your hips. You’re almost tempted to open an eye when his motions still. He lightly tugs at corners of your panties, you raise your hips a little to help him out.

You grin at the groan he makes once undergarment is around your ankles. Sometimes just his reactions to you is enough to make you feel sexy.

He lowers partially over you, kissing your neck and shoulders while running a hand along your side, cupping the side of your breast before running down your waist to your hip and pushing underneath you to get to your front.

You tilt to your side a little, pressing more fully against him while also allowing his hand to get under you. You gasp sharply as his fingers circle around your clit, shaking with waves of pleasure it causes.

“Oh Stan,” You whisper breathily, earning you a rough love bite to your neck along with some vigorous finger action.

Some time ago you figured out Stan enjoys the sound of you vocalizing your pleasure, especially if it was his name. The way you sound when aroused really gets him off. You repeat his name thickly as he plays with you, arching to his touch.

“Ya like that?” he murmurs in your ear. “You wanna ride the Stan of war*?”

“God yes I do.” You say hoarsely, pushing yourself up to your hands and knees. “Give it to me Stan.”

You don’t need to say so again. The bed shakes as he positions himself over you. Some people think sex with someone bigger around the middle was more uncomfortable because of their stomach but it couldn’t be further from the truth.

The pudgy gut often meant continued skin to skin contact which is always good and a layer of warmth for you when things really got going. Maybe it was different with really big people but for the amount of gut Stan has, it’s perfect.

It takes him a moment to line himself up, but when you feel the head of his erection against your vag you grip the sheets tightly. Despite weeks of these encounters and how willing you are to them, that first entry is always a little rough. He eases himself into you slowly.

You bite your lip at the burn of his cock stretching you out, the sheets bunching in your grasp. Despite your best efforts to stay silent a small whine escapes your lips as he fills you completely.

“You ok?” he huffs.

“Yeah, keep going.” You say quickly.

The last time he thought he was hurting you he wouldn’t touch you for days, you’re not about to let that happen again.

Stan lingers for a moment, basking in the sensation of being inside you before he started to thrust, slowly at first, but building to a steady pace. As he establishes a rhythm the burn dulls and desire takes its place.

He runs his hands over your back, from your shoulders to your hips praising the softness of your skin. With your body adapting to his cock you begin to participate more, rolling your hips back to meet his thrusts. You get more vocal, calling Stan’s name with pleasure laden moans. This causes him to pick up the pace, his hands still at your hips, gripping you firmly and pulling you onto his cock again and again.

Goosebumps raise up your arms as he occasionally hits that sweet spot inside of you. A rushing sensation begins to build in your loins.

“Oh~h Stan r-right there, ah, right th-there!” you pant, pushing back against him.

A throaty growl is the only response he give you. Keeping one hand on your hip he uses the other to push in between your shoulder blades, lowering your chest to the mattress but also raising your ass a little higher.

The slight change made a world of difference as he now hits the spot with more accuracy. You clench your eyes shut, overwhelmed by your mounting orgasm. The walls of your vag throb around him as you reach that peak. You cry out his name as you come, the muscles in your thighs tensing so tightly it hurts for a moment.

With you being satisfied he brings both hands back to your hips, slamming into you with tremendous force. “So…beautiful…” he groans heavily.

Abruptly he pulls out completely, a raucous grunt signaling he’s finished. You roll to your side to make room for Stan to lay next to you, pleased to see he contained his cum to his hand. Wet spots really are annoying.

Stan wipes his hand on a discarded towel on the ground before laying on his back next to you. “Whew, you are…something else.” He wheezes, still trying to catch his breath.

You smile and cuddle up next to him, resting your head on his damp chest. “That’s a compliment right?”

“Best one I’ve given all year.” He confirms, laying his clean hand on your back.

You grin, playing with the forest of hair on his chest. You decide to give him a moment to breathe before the gift-giving. Besides, nothing wrong with a little cuddle time first. The silence filling the room is pleasant and warm, just the sound of two people enjoying each other.

“So I was thinkin’ of sound proofing this room, what do you think?” he asks softly.

You giggle. “What, are you saying I’m too loud?”

He waves his hand. “Not for me no, just don’t want the customers gettin’ nosy.”

“I don’t know, the idea of getting caught doesn’t thrill you?” You tease.

Stan scoffs. “Hardly. Like I need those know-nothing yokels sayin’ anything _else_ ‘bout me.”

You sit up quickly, recognizing a set up when you hear one. “Oh, well if that doesn’t excited you, maybe this will!” you grab your coat from the bedside and fish out the gift.

Stan sits up as well, though his back cracks a bit as he does. Groaning he reaches around for his orthopedic back pillow. “Damn it. You’re rubbing _my_ back next time.” He grumbles, putting the pillow up against the wall to support him as you come back to his side.

You cheeks are nearly splitting with how wide you are smiling as you rotate the gift in your hand behind your back. “I can do that, but first, close your eyes.”

He raises a brow. “Really?”

You give his arm a little slap. “Close ‘em!”

With a heavy sigh he does and you put the gift on his stomach. “Ok, openin’ em up.”

“You know when you talk fast like that it’s almost like you’re speaking another language.” He says teasingly as he opens his eyes.

You shrug. “Well whatever. Anyways, I know it’s still a while until Christmas but I think Hanukah starts sometime this week so it still fits in the gift-giving season.”

He chuckles gruffly as he unwraps the small box. “Come on doll, ya don’t have t-” he stops short at the sight of the watch, stunned.

You couldn’t be smiling any wider if you wanted to. “Ta-da!” you try not to shout but you’re so eager you feel like your head is going to explode.

Because this isn’t just _any_ old watch you bought. It is an Invicta Men's 17872 'Pro Diver' Stainless Steel™ watch, round with a stainless steel case and case back, with 18k gold-plated stainless steel unidirectional tachymeter bezel, a mother of pearl dial, gold tone arrows to the gold tone roman numerals and a two-tone 18k gold-plated stainless steel links in the bracelet.

To the ordinary person look at it, it probably looks like a nice metal watch with some fake gold paint. Shiny but not that impressive, but you know Stan has a history in thievery and his ability to appraise items is unmatched. He knows this is a high quality watch, you can tell just by the look on his face.

“I remember how much you like watches and while I’m not sure if it’s ‘mob-boss’ quality it’s the best I could get! It’s even got a crystal based cover on the face so it’s scratch resistant! And I got your name engraved on the back of the face!” you spout out happily.

He looks at the watch for a long time before he looks at you, then he looks back to the watch. You feel like you’re on pins and needles. “Well? What do you think?”

Stan opens his mouth but doesn’t speak at first, his eyes still fixed on the watch. “…I…I can’t believe…you got _this_ , fer me?”

You laugh. “Well of course! When you wear it you can think of me. Plus, you’re my favorite person in all of Gravity Falls. I just wanted to show you how much you mean to me.”

He looks up at you when you say that. You’re not sure what to make of his expression. He’s still at a loss for words though, so you feel accomplished.

“Uh, wow…no one’s ever said _that_ to me before. Thanks. It’s beautiful.” He mumbles.

A squeal erupts from your throat as you give him a tight hug. “I’m so glad you like it! Oh, I set the time on it already and from the looks of it we’ve been up here for a while. I better head back down to help Soos.”

You hop off the bed and throw on your shirt and coat, you can put your bra on later, the coat can cover you. After yanking up your panties you climb back on the bed again.

Stan is still looking at the watch like it’s an alien artifact. You giggle and move over him, surprising him with a full lipped kiss.

“Take as long as you need up here, I’ll cover for you.” You say when you pull away.

Again he opens his mouth but no words come forth. You can’t stop giggling, sometimes his uncertainty is really adorable. You get back off the bed and grab your pants, putting them on one leg at a time as you make your way to the door.

The stunned silence you’ve left him in is perhaps your greatest accomplishment, so happy he can’t even speak, that’s precisely the reaction you wanted. Walking downstairs you’re filled with so much satisfaction you know that there is absolutely nothing that can bring you down.

-

You sigh heavily as you lean on the counter next to the register. Things sure have been off this past week.

Not bad or anything, just kind of…off. Stan got sick not too long after you gave him the watch so you haven’t been spending as much time together.

“Doc says I’m really contagious. I don’t wanna pass anything yer way, not so close to Christmas.” He had said.

Well, you’re starting to think sickness would be worth it because he’s not letting you in for breakfast anymore and at work he’s never around. He’ll come into the shop for a while, talk a bit then leave to ‘stay bundled up’.

Maybe it’s selfish, but you’re really starting to miss his company.

_Oh he’s just looking out for me. It’s sweet that he doesn’t want me to catch whatever he’s got._ You tell yourself but again, maybe it’d be worth it if it meant you got to talk to him for more than five minutes.

Today’s actually been a pretty busy day. It’s Christmas Eve and the shack stays open till about eight AM Christmas morning. Because as Stan says:

‘There are lots of idiots out there who forget to get someone this or that, and when it’s coming down to the wire like this, all stores are closed and they need to get something, _anything_ from a store, we can ramp up the prices. They’re desperate, they’ll pay.’

A man hurriedly comes over to the counter. “Excuse me, miss? Do you have any more of those $300 dollar stuffed animals?”

You chuckle at that. Yeah, Stan sure does know people. “Of course sir, I’ll get some from the back.”

As you turn to go to the stock room Stan enters the shop from outside, Soos had called him out for a moment to judge how well he’d cleared the path to the shack.

You wave him over. “Hey Stan, can you take the register for a second while I restock the animals?”

He turns his head to his shoulder and coughs heavily. “Ugh, sure. Just don’t take too long, I need to stay in bed.” He grumbles, holding his head.

You give him a sympathetic pat on the back. “Don’t worry, I’ll only take a second.” You say before hurrying to the back.

The boxes with the animals are still closed so you have to cut it open before taking them out to the floor. With one stacked on top of another you quick-walk back to the main area, prepping yourself to stock the shelves in record time.

It’s a little hard to see over the boxes, but you know the store well enough to know where these guys go and besides, you can see the corners of where you’re at, you can make it there.

Or at least you think you can, until you trip to the floor. You manage to keep hold of the boxes but a few of the animals flew out.

You get up quickly, embarrassed and turn around to give Stan a little wave to let him know you’re ok and you don’t need help. He’s still at the register but looks ready to come over until your gesture.

_Well at least I fell in the right spot._ You think, as you are right in front of the empty shelf.

Sighing to yourself you proceed to start picking up the animals that got loose. You get a duck, a bear, a goat and as you reach for the turtle a hand comes into view, reaching for it just as you are.

You pull back and look up when your hand lands over theirs. “Oh, I’m sorry-”

It’s a guy. He smiles toothily and waves you off. “No, no, it’s no problem. I saw you dropped them so I thought I’d help you out.”

_Huh. Kindness from a stranger. Well tis the season I guess._

You smile. “Thank you, I can be a bit of a klutz sometimes.”

He hands the animal back to you, still smiling as he laughs a little. “Accidents happen. So you work here?”

You nod and begin with the animals in hand restocking the shelf. “Yep, for a few months now.”

“Oh that’s cool. So you live in town?”

You pause in your stocking and look at the guy. He’s not ugly, has a really nice smile anyways and clean shaven, seems about your age. He’s wearing a light sport jacket and jeans, which he’s currently shoving his hands into the pockets of.

Oh what the hell, he doesn’t seem threatening or anything and he did just try to help you out.

You shrug, still smiling a little. “Sort of. My parents do anyway.”

He nods. “Oh I understand that. Small towns aren’t the most exciting places. I’m here visiting some family for the holiday myself. You got any plans for the festivities?”

Again you shrug. “Work. My boss keeps the place running until the last minutes of Christmas morning.”

“Wow, what a slave-driver.” He says.

You bristle a little. “Actually, it’s a very cunning business tactic. He’d probably keep the store open whether I was here or not. He doesn’t need employees to sucker last minute shoppers into spending.”

He chuckles. “Well when you put it like that, guy sounds like a genius.”

You hum in agreement and return to stocking the shelves. He doesn’t speak again for a moment but you can feel he’s still standing there.

He moves in a little closer. “So uh, I’ll be in town for a few weeks yet. Think I can see you around after work?”

“Eh. Probably not. I’m sort of a workaholic. Saving money to get my own place.” You say indifferently without giving his closer proximity much of your attention.

With the first box empty, you turn to get more from the second and the guy walks around to block you from the box.

“Aw come on, just for a cup of coffee sometime?” he insists.

You frown and look past the guy a little to the register to see if you can get Stan’s attention. Stan’s talking very hurriedly with a customer. At least, you think it’s a customer, wait, did Stan just slip him something?

_Oh whatever, looks like I’m on my own._ You think.

Sighing you shake your head. “Look, I don’t even know your name-”

“It’s Chris.” He says quickly.

You roll your eyes. “Ok, Chris. You seem nice and all but no thanks.”

He moves a little closer. “Come on, just give me a chance. One cup of coffee, my treat. I’ll-”

“Excuse me bub,”

You smile as Stan has come up and taps the guy on the shoulder. When he turns to face him Stan points his thumb out the window. “I think your car’s gettin’ jacked there.”

And sure enough, a nice black sports car is tearing out of the parking lot. A disbelieving chuckle escapes you as the now panicked Chris pushes past Stan and runs out the door, yelling for whoever is stealing his car to stop.

You turn back to Stan. “Wow Stan-”

But he doesn’t even look at you and abruptly walks away. You blink, confused before following after him. Thankfully as you go Soos comes back inside.

“Oh Soos, could you watch the register for a sec? Thanks!” You say quickly as you try to catch up with Stan, why is moving so fast?

“Stan! Stan wait!” You call after him.

When you round the corner into the house he’s already at the bottom of the stairs, paused on the first step. He doesn’t turn around to look you when you reach him.

You sigh a little heavily. “Not that that wasn’t total hilarious or anything, but don’t you think it was a little over kill?”

“Oh _sorry_ , didn’t mean to ruin your chat with your little _boyfriend_ , but in case you forgot this _is_ work and I expect you to start doing some around here!” he snaps, still not facing you.

You frown yet don’t speak as he keeps going, though he seems to be talk more to the stairs than to you at this point. “This is exactly what I knew would happen, ready to flip on a dime when someone younger comes along.” He mutters, his voice taut.

“Stan, you’re making some pretty big assumptions there and you know what they say about those. I didn’t even want to _talk_ to that guy much longer, much less anything else. I was trying to get rid of him too, just less dramatically.” You say coolly.

“Yeah? Well how long ‘til someone ya _do_ like comes snoopin’ around then, _huh_!?” he barks stridently, finally turning around to look at you.

It’s a little alarming at first, you’ve never seen Stan this irate before, much less directed at you. But his accusation outweighs your initial surprise as you scowl angrily at him. “What the hell is your problem?”

“What’s _my_ problem? What’s **_your_** problem?!” he’s shouting now. “You’re the twenty somethin’ year old tryin’ ta shack up with a guy older than your father! What’s your angle anyways?!”

“I don’t _have_ an angle! Where is all this coming from?” You demand.

Stan growls gutturally before gesturing between you two. “This thing you started, was supposed to be fun. Then ya had ta ruined it! With your fancy watches, coming over here all the time, staying the night, sayin’ things like you- you, _you’re ruinin’ everything_!”

You stare him down as he rants and when he’s finished you shake your head. “You lied.” You say flatly, softly.

His eyes narrow. “What?”

“You lied. You’ve _been_ lying from the start!” You voice raises involuntarily in volume. “You were never relaxed about this, hell, seems like you were more scared of it than I was! You’re scared to let me close to you! That’s why you don’t kiss me or-or get distant when I kiss you, are you even really sick? Or is that you pushing me away? God, that’s why you wanted to keep this just between us, isn’t it, you’re scared!”

“Look kid, I’m not the kind of person people fall in love with, I accepted that a _long_ time ago. I’m the guy you regret in the mornin’, the one you’re with for a short time ‘fore you split to find someone that _really_ matters to ya. And on top of that I’m old! I can’t give ya a _real_ life! What are you doin’ wastin’ your time here?!” He snarls.

“I don’t care or need what society dictates will make me happy!” You shriek, giving him a hard push to the chest, though it barely phases him.

Your whole body is shaking, you can’t remember the last time you felt so furious. Both of you are heaving from the yelling and rage.

“And I thought you knew that about me. I thought you were different!” You hiss then shake your head. “But it looks like I was wrong. You’re no different than anyone. You’re just as controlled and manipulated as everyone else into thinking we need to fit in a certain criteria to be happy, that we just need to get all the things on the check-list to ever _really_ be accomplished.”

You poke him roughly in the chest as you continue a low adjective. “You’re nothing but a cowardly shell of the man I thought you were, too caught up in what everyone else thinks to ever be your own person! A fool being duped out of any real happiness because you think you don’t deserve it! You’re no better than the idiots you scam money off of! You’re weak! Spineless! Insecure-”

“ _Now that’s it!_ ” he roars, shoving your hand away. “ _You’re **fired**!_ ”

“ ** _Fine_** _!_ ” You retort, turning heel as an orotund growl erupts from him.

You flinch when you hear him throw something and the crash it makes but you don’t turn around. You grab your coat hastily as soon as you enter the shop again, not acknowledging Soos or whatever he’s saying, you don’t know or care.

Stan enters not far behind you but you keep going. He’s got nothing more to say to you anyways as he has a stentorian bellow for everyone else in the shop. “Store’s closed, everybody out _now_!”

“But- but Mr. Pines-” You hear Soos say as you reach the door.

“ _I said **now**!_ ”

You don’t bother to close the door as at least twenty frightened people run out after you. Your throat feels tight and damn it all if you start crying now you’ll drive your car into the lake because no matter how angry and hurt you feel you’ll be damned if you give Stan the satisfaction of seeing you wounded.

Just as you slam the door to your car and fumble to get the key in the ignition Soos runs up and starts slapping your window.

“Dude, what happened?” he asks, though his voice is muffled.

“Why don’t you ask Stan? I’m not your coworker any more so see you never!” you shout wobbly before peeling out, uncaring to Soos’ feelings or even if you ran over his foot, you just need to get the hell away from this place.

The drive back home is quicker than you ever remember it. Judging by the single car in the drive way it looks like just your mom is home right now, you dad will probably be home shortly though.

You pray you don’t run into her as the tears have been building up since you left the parking of the Mystery Shack. You can’t deal with her right now, you just want to get up to your room and let this misery demon loose.

Slamming the door to your car you run to the house. Fate must hate you as your mom is sitting on the living room couch as you enter.

“You’re home early- what’s wrong?” her tone switches to concern almost immediately but you ignore her, grumbling about being fired before racing up the stairs, not even bothering to leave your coat and boots downstairs. Once you’re in you slam your bedroom door shut, lock it and put your computer chair in front of it.

With the precautions set you throw yourself down onto your bed, screaming as loud as you can into the two nearest pillows. Rage and pain pour out of your eyes, you can’t remember a time you felt so hurt.

Truly, this is turning out to be the worst Christmas Eve, and by extension Christmas, ever.

-

“Come on buddy, it’s been about a week now and you haven’t left your bedroom besides to use the bathroom.” The phone on top of your head says in your best friend’s voice.

“My bedroom? I haven’t even left my bed.” You mumble into a pillow.

“Look, I know it sucks about Stan,” You flinch at the name and the phone slides closer to your face. Her words are louder. “But it’s New Year’s Eve! You blew me off when I came down to visit you for Christmas, I can’t afford another trip down before school starts back up. Just drive up here and spend some time with me. We can go bar hopping or something, anything you like! Hell, I got a bed here you can sulk in if it’ll make you happy! Come on, please?”

“Why wallow in your bed when I have a perfectly suitable one right here?” You murmur, this time so she can hear you.

She sighs. “Ok. I can’t make you do anything. Just know that I love you and it’d be really nice to see you before I have to go back to school. I hope you’ll think about it, please?”

“Sure. You’ll have to excuse me though, the bell boy to my room is back and he’s nearly slipping on the river of tears he’s crying. I’ll talk to you later.” You say tonelessly.

She chuckles half-heartedly at that. “Ok. Tell the desk clerk that black is out of season, you should really let some color into that hotel.”

Despite yourself, a small smile comes to your face. It’s always nice when someone just gets you and understands what you mean. You thought _he_ was one such person. The smile falls away almost immediately at the thought. “Yeah. Later.” You utter quietly, hanging up the phone before rolling back onto your side.

How can everything go from so perfect to so wrong so quickly?

It was that damn watch, you never should’ve gotten him the watch! From now on everyone gets cards for Christmas, no exceptions! Or maybe you didn’t talk about it well enough that first night after, or maybe you should’ve recognized the signs sooner, or maybe you shouldn’t have fucked as much and done more talking or maybe you shouldn’t have had sex with him at all, ever!

Or maybe you shouldn’t have even taken his stupid bailout or maybe you shouldn’t have dropped out of college, maybe you should’ve just stayed on the assembly line like everyone else, worked a job eight to five, found a guy in college, maybe be talking about marriage right now, living on your own instead of in your folks place trying to get your act together! Maybe-

The knock on the door is soft, timid.

_Well at least it’s not dad again._ You think, pulling your blanket over your head. “Yeah ma?” you answer.

The door squeaks open behind you and you feel more than hear your mom enter. She sits on the edge of your bed. “Hey hon. Brought you some dinner, in case you’re hungry.”

Funny thing about feeling awful, at least for you personally, it was like your stomach stopped functioning. It didn’t growl or hurt or anything. The mere thought of eating was tiring and when you told her you weren’t hungry, you meant it. Even if biologically you should be.

Still, she sets the plate down like she always does and grabs the untouched one from earlier. “Ok honey.”

Now she’s supposed to get up slowly and walk even slower to the door, giving you ample time to suddenly decide to change your mind and talk about what’s got you so down.

Today, your mom seems to breaking routine as she’s still sitting on your bed. You tense at the hand on your head, is she petting you?

“I uh, I know this about more than just losing your job honey.” She says meekly.

Regardless of being tense already the muscles in your legs somehow tighten even further to the point of almost cramping.

“Your friend was talking pretty loudly to your door before she left on Christmas.” She answers your unasked question.

_I will murder her next time I see her_. You silently vow.

“I won’t say any disapproval but I was surprised to hear it. Mr. Pines is…quite a bit older than you. Relationships are funny, aren’t they? You never really know who you’ll end up with and you usually end up with whom you least expect. Why, your father and I broke up probably seven times before we ended up getting married and sticking it out.”

You force down the groan rising in your throat. Not that story time with mom wasn’t informative and occasionally interesting but you’re just not in the mood for it today.

“Did you know your dad is older than me?” she says casually.

You shift a little, but can tell she won’t go on or go away until you answer. You sigh heavily rising to her bait. “Is that right?”

You feel her nod as she continues stroking your hair. “Yes. Ten year’s difference. I met him in college when I was just turning twenty. He really was handsome back then you know. And so funny! We’d talk for hours walking around campus. Such a sweet man. He first told me he was in college so long trying to get a doctorate but the truth was he kept failing a single class and refused to move on until he passed it. Stubborn, I think that’s where you get it from, miss in-your-room-for-a-week.”

You huff in response, snuggling closer to your pillow.

“Well, our age difference didn’t go unnoticed to our friends and families and teachers. We got made fun of everywhere we went. From small comments to all out shaming, mostly on me for not picking a more suitable man. Someone who’s more likely to father children for me, you know, all that nonsense.”

Slowly you lift your head up from the pillow in surprise. “Yeah?” you say softly.

Your movement seems to have encouraged her as she nods eagerly. “Oh yes! We got a lot of flak even back in the day. Well, I wasn’t too comfortable with that but your father seemed to care less what other had to say. He’d hold my hand and kiss me everywhere we went, proudly so. I always thought it was easier for him because the most he got was ‘robbing the cradle’ but overall he got pats on the back for getting such a young girl.”

The contempt in her voice actually gets you to sit up, her hand dropping from your hair. “Exactly! See mom, that’s _exactly_ what I’m saying. The way society as a whole tries to dictate what is ‘normal’ or ‘good’ is completely out of our favor, that’s what I’m always trying to tell you guys when I say I don’t _want_ to go back to college, I don’t _need_ to in order to have a fulfilled life.” You say forcefully.

She chuckles. “You sound like your father. The first time we broke up it was because of me. I couldn’t stand all the attention any more, the teasing from my friends and family, it was embarrassing. So I started putting a lot of distance between us. I’d get sick often or have a lot of homework to do or family would need me and so on.” She shakes her head.

“Well, he stopped me one day and grabbed me by the shoulders. He said ‘Darling, I don’t care what people have to say about us and you shouldn’t either. They’re not living our lives, we are. We choose where it goes from here. I won’t make you stay with me, that’s your choice but I can’t walk away without knowing I gave it my all to be with you. So if it ends here, you better make it clear right now. Do you want to keep seeing me? If you do, you better come full heartedly because…you know I will.’ ‘Cuse me, I’m borrowing a tissue.” She ends the speech a little thickly.

You stare at your mom and think of your dad in a whole new light.

“So, what happened?” you venture hesitantly.

After dabbing her eye a bit, your mom sniffs. “Oh well, I told him I just couldn’t take being with him and all that it entailed so we said goodbye and that lasted for all of about three days before I ran back to his dorm telling him I’d made a mistake.”

You frown a little. “What made you change your mind?”

“I gave his words a lot of thought after we parted ways. Thought about how happy we’d been and how miserable I felt when it was over. He was true to his word, when we’d be in the same area he did everything in his power to give me space. He didn’t once try to argue his case again yet also managed to stay civil with me in the few times we actually had to speak to each other.”

She sighs. “Truly, he made me think about what I’d just given up. I knew I hadn’t been putting my all into it like he was and that was what really tore me up in the end. What might have been, if I’d actually tried to make it work, really invested myself into it. The thought that I was passing up something great without ever giving it a real chance wore me down and we got back together. I guess my point is, you can’t make someone love you, but if they didn’t really try, they’ll always wonder what might have been. You know?”

You nod mutely, letting her words sink in.

She’s smiling now as she pats your lap. “I think I’ll make his favorite cake to go with our champagne. Are you sure you don’t want to watch the ball drop with us downstairs?”

“No…thanks though.” You mutter.

Again she sighs, though her smile is wilted a little. “Ok honey. Love you.” And now she leaves with your plate.

You sit on your bed staring at the wall across the room. _Well that was fun._

It was an interesting story but still, this was different. _He_ was the one pushing you away, not the other way around. From what he said that day, you knew he was scared, for a number of reasons so he hadn’t been really trying from the start.

_Wait a minute._

You reflect on your mom’s story, mostly her parting words. Stan wasn’t really trying. If he wasn’t trying, maybe _he_ was feeling that regret. Maybe if you confronted him on it, there might be a chance to salvage something. And if nothing else, you could hold your head high and say you literally did everything in your power and have none of that regret for yourself.

_Yeah…yeah, that’ll definitely give me peace of mind and it’ll end this for good. That’s it! I’m going to go talk to him!_

The idea is like a bolt of energy, propelling you from your bed and into action. You change out of your pjs in a flash and rake a brush through your hair as you run downstairs. Gotta move fast, before you lose your nerve.

In the living room your parents are nestled on the couch with a bottle of champagne on the living room table, watching the ball in New York square.

“Changed your mind?” You dad asks happily as you reach the last step.

You charge right past the living room to the front door and start throwing on your winter gear. “No, gotta go.” You hurriedly say.

Your dad looks confused, however your mom is smiling as she snuggles closer to your dad to keep him from getting up. “Drive safe, let us know if you won’t be home.”

Nodding, you hurry out the door. It’s not quite stormy out, but there is light snowfall with the wind blowing it about. As you start up your car you can’t help but think, sometimes, maybe you don’t give your parents enough credit.

-

You stop the car close to the front of the house and scramble out, nearly slipping once on the icy ground as you make your way to the front door.

_Please still keep the door unlocked, please still keep the door unlocked!_ You think as you get there. He always said ‘what’s the point in locking it when you’re in the middle of nowhere’ but after all that’s happened, he might have started locking it just to keep you out.

When the handle turns in your hand, you almost laugh in relief as you rush into the shack.

As anticipated, Stan is in his recliner, dressed down to his underwear with his fez on the arm of the chair and the TV is on, coincidently also on New York square. What surprises you is the watch he apparently still kept as he’s looking at it decisively.

Upon your entrance however he nearly drops it as he gets to his feet, saying your name in surprise.

“Ah-ah, don’t say anything!” you snap as you close the door.

You throw your winter jacket off and step out of your snow boots before marching up to him. At the moment you’re running on adrenaline so if you’re ever going to speak your mind now is the time.

“For the past week I’ve been wallowing in my room feeling sorry for myself, wondering what I did wrong and what I could do to fix it and everything else but you know what? This isn’t my fault! And I’m not going to beat myself up about you anymore! I’ve come here to get the facts straight and get the weight off my chest.” You say matter-of-factly.

A guarded scowl comes to Stan’s face. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Yeah? Well spit it out then!” he sneers.

“ _I love you!_ ” you shout, actually causing him to step back in surprise.

You huff through your nose. “Yeah, I do, ok? And I never said it. I should’ve from the start and I didn’t and I’ve been regretting it all week.”

You take a heavy breath, trying not to be shaken by the alarm on Stan’s face. “I was scared. I was scared you’d laugh at me or turn me down or wouldn’t feel the same so I just never said. And now I see you were scared too and I’m sorry I didn’t pick up on that. I should’ve tried to really talk to you instead of assuming you were fine.”

He isn’t looking at you now though his posture is considerably less guarded.

You continue more slowly. “Stan, I can’t promise you forever, I don’t know what the future holds. The only thing I can promise you is the present and how I feel now. That might change but then again it might not. I don’t want anyone else, I haven’t since I really got to know you. You just have to trust me when I say I don’t care about your age or your past or what the future holds. I just care about the now.”

You sigh. “I can’t say we’ll be happy forever. I can’t guarantee you everything will work out because I just don’t know. But I came back here because, because I couldn’t walk away from this without knowing I gave it my all to be with you. If you were looking at that watch,” you gesture to the one in his hand but as soon as you do he hides it behind his back, “wondering if you’d ever get another chance to do this over, well, this is it. And it’s the only one I’m giving so if it’s really over with us, you’re making that call. Do you wanna give this another shot? If you do, you better come into it full heartedly because I will be.”

Ok, so you stole that last bit from your dad, it was really good though, definitely conveyed everything you wanted to say.

Stan shifts awkwardly in front of you, now looking at the floor. You’re heaving a little as the silence stretches on, anxiety and saying so much in a short breath don’t work well together.

“I uh,” he starts hoarsely, then clears his throat. “I’m not…big on emotions and shit like that…” he mumbles, finally meeting your eyes.

Hesitantly he brings the watch back to his front. “When you uh, gave me this n’ said all that stuff it- it really got under my skin. I thought we were just havin’ a fling. I can handle those, had tons of ‘em when I was younger but uh…the last woman I ever let close to me, she really shot me down hard n’…I never wanted ta feel that way again ya know?”

You nod and he looks away with a huff. “I dunno what ya want me ta say here kid.”

“Say the truth.” You implore, take a step closer. “Say what you really feel. Do you miss me? Do you love me? Do want to be my boyfriend?”

He scoffs a little. “I’m older than your father and ya want me to be your ‘boyfriend’? Why would ya want _me_? Don’t you want a regular life? Don’t you care what people will say?”

“No!” You say immediately. “Stan, I don’t _care_ what people have to say about us and you shouldn’t either! They’re not living our lives, _we_ are. _We_ choose where it goes from here.”

A really good speech from your dad.

Stan frowns. “But what ‘bout _you_? I’m too old, I can’t give you a nice home or anythin’! And what about when I’m gone? I’ve already got one foot in the grave, I won’t be around forever! What if you waste years of your life on me then realize your youth is precious and limited when I’m gone? What then?!”

“Then I’ll have the time with you to remember fondly. I’ll have a great relationship to reflect on, to learn from.” You supply quickly.

He growls roughly. “Well what ‘bout kids?!”

You blink. “What about kids? I don’t want any.”

He sneers at that. “Not yet, but what about when you change your mind? I’m too old to raise a family, I can’t give you that.”

“Actually male sperm is still active well into a man’s 80’s and 90’s. A little less accurate but it can happen.” You say casually.

“That’s not funny and ya know it’s not what I meant!” he snaps heatedly.

You groan. “ _My Go~d_. Look, if I want kids I’ll find a way to fill that need. Hell I can open a day-care center in town and have more brats than I’d ever want on a day to day basis! Whatever happens I’ll do what I can to make myself happy and right now, you’re what makes me happy. That’s why I’m here!”

Well you seemed to have stumped him there. He opens his mouth a few times but can’t seem to come up with a counter argument. He huffs a few times, clenching and unclenching his right hand while the other fiddles with the watch.

A frown slowly sets on your face. “Stan I’m not here to force you into anything, I’m giving you the choice. I’m glad I was able to help you talk about what’s really bothering you but now I need an answer. Do you want me or not? Just say the word and I’ll walk out that door and promise you I won’t ever come back.”

The irritation melts from his face at that. He stares at you uncertainly, the watch tinkling a little in his hand. The TV is turned down very lowly though you can vaguely hear the count down for the New Year has started.

The heavy atmosphere of the room stretches on in taciturn. Stan licks his lip but makes no move forward or away. Your patience is starting to wear thin. Shaking your head you sigh and turn to the door.

Just as you pick up your coat you feel his hand on your shoulder.

“Wait.”

You pause in your action, slowly turning back to face him. You haven’t seen him look this anxious since Thanksgiving.

His brow is furrowed and a little sweaty as he take a breath. “Alright, you win. I’ll…be your boyfriend, whatever, just…don’t leave. P-please.” The word seems to physically pain him to say.

A smile gradually comes to your face. “So, you want to give this a real chance?”

He sighs heavily. “Yes.”

“Are you sure? That means we’ll be in a real relationship. One we talk about and don’t hide from other people. You’re ok with this?” You ask in a singsong voice.

“Whatever it takes, as long as you stay.” He says tiredly.

The smile slowly morphs into a smirk as you move a little closer to his personal space. “Are you absolutely sure that-”

A surprised squeak escapes you when he suddenly wraps an arm around you, pulling you to his chest. “Just shut up and kiss me.” He grumbles before forcing his lips to yours.

Once when you were younger a friend told you licking the ends of D batteries tickles a little, so you gave it a try. This kiss, it feels like fifty D batteries, zapping your tongue and your lips and traveling from there to your spine and to the ends of your fingers and toes.

The hairs on your arms stand on end, all your senses seem heightened as you smell the faintness of his aftershave, feel the stubble of his chin, hear the faint yell of ‘Happy New Year’ from the TV behind him.

You drop your coat and wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss, your first real kiss with Stan. You laugh into the kiss when he dips you unexpectedly.

You pull back slightly to look him in the eye. “What made you speak up?”

Gradually, he sets you up upright, looking a little uncomfortable. You keep your arms around his neck to ensure close proximity while he speaks.

“You know…I’ve been livin’ alone for a while now. The only time I see my family is in the summer for a couple months. Guess I kinda like havin’ someone around longer ‘en that.”

You raise a brow. “Is that all?”

A little scowl come to his face at that. “What? You fishin’ for compliments?”

Lazily you weave your fingers in the hair on the back of his head. “Maybe.” You say in a sing-song voice.

He scoffs a little. “Well…it’s not often I enjoy talking to people, like I do with you. You’re good company and what not.”

You grin. “And?”

A flush starts to rise in his face. “And I’d rather give a ‘real relationship’ a shot than be without ya.”

“And?” you press, giving his hair a little tug.

Now he looks confused.

“Uh…and you let me pork you?”

You groan. “Well that. And? What do all those things mean in regards to how you feel about me?”

His face is now undeniably red as he pulls out of your arms. “Hey, how’s about we finish that New Year’s show huh?” he says with a tremulous laugh.

You frown as you follow him to the recliner. “Oh come on Stan! Tell me that you love me too, you know that you do!”

“Didn’t I just say I’m no good at talkin’ about things of the…you know, blood pumper guy.” He says as he sits back in his chair.

You pout a little while standing to the side of his chair. He doesn’t really notice as he puts the watch on his wrist. When he’s got it clasped he looks up at you and pats his lap, indicating you should sit down.

With a little huff you oblige. It was a little annoying that he wouldn’t say it, but not worth ruining the night over. You lean back against him as you watch the screen.

“You know, you should really invest in a couch or something Stan.” You say casually.

You can’t see him, but you can feel the grin on his face as he wraps his arms around you. “I dunno, I think this chair has more than a few perks.”

You chuckle a little, snuggling into his embrace. “Ok, I can see your point.”

As you watch the rest of the show in Time Square they advertise a few things, talk to some people that are supposedly celebrities but you’ve never seen or heard of before tonight.

“It’s the most idiotic thing ever. Are they so despite for guest appearances they just make up celebrities? How can they expect us to be conned into clapping for a bunch of no ones we don’t know anything about? It’s like, ‘yay you were on TV for a few hours’ now I’m supposed to kiss your ass? Come on.” You rant, honestly not caring if Stan agrees or not.

You do care, however, when you hear the smallest of gruff mumbles against your hair. “I love you.”

Surprised, you pull away from him slightly to look at his face. His expression seems to be torn between wanting to look casual and actually being anxious.

A gentle smile comes to your face and it seems to put him at ease. You turn onto your side a little so you can look at him more comfortably. “Say it again.” You whisper.

He rolls his eyes and looks back to the TV. “Don’t push it.”

Laughing, you nestle closer to his chest and kiss his check. “Happy New Year Stan.”

The arm around your waist rubs up and down on. “Happy New Year.” He says.

 

-End

 

A/N: Happy New Year everyone! So hopefully this wasn’t bad, I wasn’t sure if it was as good as the first one, but I really think I kept it together alright. I get the feeling (especially seeing how he was with Lazy Susan) Stan’s not usually the commitment type so I didn’t feel this was out of character but let me know what you think. I was really at war with myself when it came to the ending though. I couldn’t decide, should I end on a sexy note like the last one or a little fluff instead? Tell ya what, if I get enough messages about it I’ll change the ending up depending on what people want. Hope you liked it! :)

*Ok, now for the asterisk on what Stan said (during the sex bit earlier in the fic), I don’t know how many people have seen the “Gravity Falls Gossiper” Podcast, but they have one episode where Alex Hirsh actually makes a guest appearance in-character Grunkle Stan and in the podcast (at 10:38, yes I have the point memorized) Stan says that line. He says “I’ve got no problem getting ladies to, you know, wanna ride the Stan of war.” And to me, because Alex himself said it, it’s official. That’s a canon Stan phrase now and no one will convince me otherwise! If you want to hear it I blogged it on the site a while ago, I can reblog to bring it to the top of the page if you want. :D


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